


your eyes whispered, “have we met?” / across the room your silhouette starts to make its way to me

by Herskirtsarentthatshort



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, One-Shot, grumpy darcy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 11:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6982417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herskirtsarentthatshort/pseuds/Herskirtsarentthatshort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy has been dragged along to a Spanish getaway by his good friend Charlie Bingley and he’s determined that it’s going to be hell. And it is, until he meets a dark-haired beauty at a salsa bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your eyes whispered, “have we met?” / across the room your silhouette starts to make its way to me

**Author's Note:**

> This is another (shorter) one-shot that was originally inspired by a prompt I found, as well as the song Maria, Maria by Santana. It grew from there and I listened to a heap of Spanish and salsa music to create the atmosphere (hopefully successfully!). I really enjoyed writing this one, I hope you enjoy reading it :). Big thanks to @austencello for being my beta-reader. All mistakes are my own.

The air was sticky, the height of the Spanish summer in full swing, and people spilled out of restaurants and bars into the streets. Live music from bands and buskers on the cobble-stoned streets, competing for space and attention, created a festival-like atmosphere that had Will Darcy squirming.

Will Darcy hated crowds and had been cursing his friend Charlie Bingley for dragging him out on a night like tonight. “You need to dance, Darcy, and get rid of all this tension,” Bingley had told him. No matter how many times he had told Bingley that he didn’t dance, Bingley ignored him. It was always for his own good, apparently. Darcy had always been accused of being uptight, of being a snob and of not knowing a good thing (or person) when he saw it. This trip to Spain was yet another attempt of Bingley’s for Darcy to unwind. What Darcy couldn’t convince Bingley of was that he was perfectly happy with the way he was. He liked the company of certain people, he liked to travel only to certain parts of the world, and he liked his environments to be of a certain standard. If that meant that people perceived him as a snob then so be it.

This tiny town in southern Spain was definitely _not_ a part of the world he ever imagined visiting. There were pockets of loud British people, simultaneously hanging onto and tripping one another over in drunken sensibility that had Darcy seething. Where the hell had Bingley brought him?

Bingley had his arm around Darcy’s shoulders as they wound through the streets, completely in his element. “I have never seen so many beautiful women in all my life,” he commented, grinning as they walked.

Darcy rolled his eyes and said nothing, the stiffness in his body unyielding. “Where are you taking me, Bingley?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“According to Hurst, there is a great salsa bar about five minutes away. Away from all the pesky tourists you so loathe and is a favourite amongst the locals. Good drinks, good dancing. You’ll love it, Darcy.”

Darcy raised his eyes up to the starry, cloudless night and exhaled. “Highly doubtful.”

They continued to wind their way through the streets, the noise of the main strip falling behind until they reached tiny alleyways that were littered with apartments hidden behind ancient doors, the glow of the lights filtering down.

Bingley was murmuring to himself as he studied his phone. “I think it’s just around this bend…”

The distant hum of music and conversation as the two men rounded the corner came into sharp focus. Both men stopped, taking in the sight of the square defined by fairy lights above them and the small mass of people all dancing. Bingley, excited by it all, left Darcy behind and walked quickly towards the spectacle. Darcy groaned and ran a hand through his thick curls. It was going to be a long night.

\---

Darcy found a spare seat at the entrance of the bar that afforded the best view of the square as well as Bingley, who he noticed was dancing with a very beautiful woman who smiled almost as much as Bingley. “Match made in heaven,” he murmured, lifting the glass of _vino tinto_ to his lips taking a measured sip. It was his fifth drink and the lights were beginning to kaleidoscope.

The music was loud, creating an enjoyable thrum over his body. Feeling more relaxed than he had in the longest time, Darcy sat back in the chair, revelling in the coolness of the metal through his linen shirt and crossed one leg over his knee. His foot tapped out the beat of the guitar being played an older gentlemen cutting a lonely figure even though there were drums, maracas and a keyboard player around him.

“Darcy!” a loud voice broke him out of his revere and he sat up straight. The impulse of annoyance crossing his face smoothed over once he saw Bingley standing in front of him.

“Bingley!” he replied, mocking his friend’s enthusiasm.

“I’d like to introduce you to someone,” Bingley smiled, turning his attention to a young woman with blonde hair standing beside him. “This is Jane. Jane, this is my good friend, Will Darcy.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said with a polite smile, recognising her from the dancefloor. He stood to take her outstretched hand. The earth around him moved and his feet were feeling light. “You both look like you’re enjoying the music.”

Jane nodded and grinned up at Bingley. “Lizzie will be here any minute, I told her I’d meet her at the bar. Excuse me,” she added, looking at Darcy, who answered her with a nod of his head.

Darcy and Bingley watched Jane’s retreating back until she was swallowed up by the crowd. “So,” Darcy began, slipping a hand into his pocket and taking a sip of his wine. “She’s smiles an awful lot. At you, in particular.”

Bingley turned his attention back to Darcy with excitement simmering in his eyes. “She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She lives not far from us back home. We have exchanged numbers and are going to meet up when we return.”

Darcy said nothing, his attention diverted by a dark-haired beauty standing a few metres away chatting to a small group and swaying in time with the music. She laughed at something said and then took a sip of her sangria. And that’s when the bar and people around Darcy disappeared and time stood still. Their eyes locked over the rim of her glass and Darcy’s stomach somersaulted. She lowered her glass with a quiet smile on her face but her eyes were lit with mischief.

Bingley stood in front of Darcy breaking the moment too soon and Darcy took a few steps back at the unexpected interruption. His eyes flashed with irritation at Bingley. “What?” he asked, through gritted teeth.

“I asked whether you wanted to join me and Jane on the dance floor. She’s just over there with her sister now,” Bingley turned and pointed out Jane who was trying to catch the attention of the dark-haired beauty Darcy was just admiring.

“Sisters?” Darcy wondered aloud. And before his alcohol-muddled brain could catch up with this fact, Jane and her sister were walking towards them. He took a swig of his wine to soothe his parched mouth and cleared his throat as his focus narrowed onto _her_. Long, dark curls were pinned back from her face and disappeared past her shoulders. Her red shirt was cropped, showing off her toned and bronzed stomach and Darcy’s hands itched to be on her narrow waist, dancing under lights.

Dwelling on that troubling thought he jumped when he felt an elbow to his ribs. “What?” he spluttered. His attention snapped to Bingley before coming back to rest on Jane’s sister who was now directly in front of him, close enough for him to notice her bright brown eyes. _Which were laughing at him_. His arm shot out awkwardly towards her nearly knocking the drink out of her hands. “Will.”

Now openly giggling, she took his hand and immediately warmth radiated up his arm and over his body. “I’m Lizzie. A word of advice?” she began, rising on her toes. “The Spanish love their wine strong, go easy.”

Her breath was more intoxicating than the wine as it tickled his face, and Will clamped his mouth shut to stop himself from rambling any further and settled for a curt nod. He was dimly aware that Bingley and Jane were looking at him highly amused by the exchange and his clumsiness, but Darcy refused to entertain the thought.

He tried to think of something to say…to say _anything_ but his brain would not cooperate. Surely he was not this hopeless at talking to strangers. _Say something! Come here often? No! Not that! Nice skirt? No. You have beautiful eyes. No, definitely not that. Now you’re just staring creepily at her. Just walk away. You’re done for tonight._

“Would you like to dance, Will?”

_Or maybe not._

Warm fingers danced along his hand until they were entwined and again the shot of electricity tortured him and his thoughts.

“Yes, he would love to,” Bingley spoke across him, not hiding the grin as he gave Darcy an encouraging slap on the back. “Take him away, Lizzie.”

Lizzie relieved him of his empty wine glass and placed it on the table next to them. Darcy was so lightheaded he wasn’t sure he was even standing let alone being led outside. The warm summer night did nothing to help ease his stupor either. Darcy had to admit to himself that it wasn’t from the alcohol…well, not _all_ of it anyway. Lizzie was _beautiful_ as she danced to the beat of the music, body twirling, hands running over her hair, down her body and over her hips. The silky fabric of her long black skirt moved as one with her, brushing his legs as she danced around him with a smile on her face that Darcy thought was almost as striking as her eyes.

Gentle hands landed on his waist and Darcy attempted to quell a quiet thrill that ran through him. Lizzie was in front of him again with the music change, locking her bright eyes on his. In bumbling Spanish, a compliment slipped out of Darcy’s mouth, “ _tus ojos son hermosos”._ _Your eyes are beautiful._

Slightly mortified at the slip of the tongue and Lizzie’s affected but surprised response, Darcy started to apologise only for Lizzie to interrupt him. “Do you always talk while you dance, Will?”

“I don’t usually dance,” Darcy replied, taking her in a ballroom hold. He tried to ignore the scintillation his hand in hers created, as he moved her around the floor in unison with everyone else.

“Your ability to dance sells you out,” she teased with tilt of her head.

Her voice – playful in tone and with an accent similar to his – washed over him and he indulged in the private world they had created in the midst of everyone. The feeling of Lizzie’s supple but strong body up against his, his palm resting on her bare back, her face as it shined up at him beneath the lights and her warm breath on his face saturated his senses. Drums, keyboards, maracas and trumpets filled the Spanish night, playing out a beat that had both of them moving quickly and expertly on their feet.

“My mother insisted on ballroom dancing lessons from a young age. It stayed with me. I do think you’re doing more of the leading though,” a rare smile illuminated Darcy’s face.

Lizzie shrugged in his arms. “I love to dance and can get a little carried away. Lead away.”

Darcy did just that - to the delight of them both. Throughout the night they danced or talked over drinks at the bar (steering clear of any more wine), Darcy having the most fun he could ever remember. Lizzie’s smiles and laughs and spirited conversation were the perfect remedy for the stress and tension that brought him to the tiny Spanish town in the first place. The lights were still a kaleidoscope, but this time it wasn’t because of the alcohol.

The End.


End file.
